


In Defence of a Beloved

by MoonBeam95



Category: I Medici | Medici: Masters of Florence (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 11:03:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20406664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonBeam95/pseuds/MoonBeam95
Summary: A rant from a jealous woman leads to a public confrontation. Lorenzo refuses to stand for anyone insulting his wife.orA gathering of best in Florence takes a rather uncomfortable turn when your family’s recent scandal is mentioned. Luckily you had someone ready to defend you.





	In Defence of a Beloved

Summary: A gathering of best in Florence takes a rather uncomfortable turn when your family’s recent scandal is mentioned. Luckily you had someone ready to defend you.

You typically loved these soirees, a chance to dress up and spend the night dancing with your husband. It was also a chance to catch the ear of the most important people in Florence, while men held the business world it was women that could make or break you in society, in particular was this group of women whom you currently sat with. Highly selective, these women were among the most powerful and your family name combined with Lorenzo’s rise to power had you tentatively accepted among their ranks. A fact that ranked some. So here you sat for all the world discussing everything and anything, nothing of importance, yet to those gifted in the art of underlying conversation alliances could shift on what was said.

Taking a sip of wine during a lull in conversation your eyes wandered across the admiring your husband in his element. Lorenzo the Magnificent as people had taken to calling him, was in his element and had various officials hanging on his every word. As if he could feel your gaze, his eyes rose to meet yours, flushing as he flashed a teasing smirk, one that deepens upon hearing the giggles from the various Matriarchs you sat with.

Madonna Gondi smiled gently “it’s lovely to see ones so young so in love.” The rest of the gave various sounds of agreement.

Unbidden your gaze turned tender and a soft smile played on your lips “I thank the Lord that our marriage found favour.”

“I’m sure that the amount of gold your father flung around had nothing to do with it,” said Marie Cybo, a woman whose catty remarks you’d had to put up with all night. Not only was she bitter that you had gained acceptance to this exclusive group while she clung desperately to the fringes but the Medici had refused her family’s marriage suit. Beside her, her group of sycophants tittered. 

Flustered you replied “excuse me?” Giving her a chance to take back such aggressive remarks.

She giggled, acting shy but her words were dripping with poison. “Oh dear, well” she paused, unaware that people were listening intently, “it’s just no-one could really blame him after the scandals he wrought. How else would anyone want one of his tainted name?”

Fury bubbled inside and you went to rely, pausing when a familiar weight settled on your shoulder. So focused were you all, none had your husband breakaway from his conversation.

“It’s interesting that _ you _ would bring such a thing up, one would think that someone in your position would not wish to draw attention to such a scandal.” His tone as always was silky completely at odds with the steel undercurrent.

The lady in question sputtered but turned pale as the rest of the room began to mutter amongst themselves.

You reach up to touch his hand wanting to give a subtle warning to leave it, to not cause a scene here. And while he would agree, there are a few things he could not forgive and chief among them was insulting his family least of all his wife. It was in his opinion best to do so with words and cut them off at the knees or the alternative would be to set his sister loose who was currently glaring, eyes ablaze.

Gazing intently he lifts your hand to his mouth brushing a feather light kiss across your knuckles before straightening and allowing his finger to run gently down the side of your hand, in an intimate caress that sent shivers through you. He then plucked your glass from your hand, taking a deep drink before turning back to the Lady a playful yet cutting smirk adorning his face. 

As he swirls what’s left in your glass he positively purrs “while my good father waited til he was no longer bound by his vows to the Lord, tell me, did you ever figure who your mother was? Your fathers wife, or your father’s help?” Here he paused to drain the rest of the glass, placing it down on the table. He shrugged carelessly, "ah well, I guess we’ll never know. Making such a scene, and a deplorable lack of manners and you wonder why I refused to take you as my wife.”

He was all but finished when she spat out “please, as if such a, a thing could compare to me!”

Keenly aware that all eyes were on them, he reaches out to his wife tenderly, caressing her face, fingers tracing her lips, lingering there before clearly reluctantly turning back to Lady Cybo “Your right, the two of you really cannot compare" 

He turned effectively dismissing the woman who was valiantly trying to ignore the looks and muttering being sent her way as she all but fed the room. Giving a deep nod to the admiring Martriches "Ladies” who reciprocated the gesture of respect. “Sister, Wife.” And with that he departed back to his group. 

A particularly elderly matriarch who was typically quite stern let out a laugh, shoulders shaking hand clasped over her mouth in a vain attempt to staunch her amusement. “Well that was rather exciting wasn’t it? You are a lucky girl Y/N.”

And with that conversation began once more, considerably warmer towards you. Heat had pooled in your stomach watching your husband verbally eviscerate someone in your defence but you had not forgotten Bianca. You reached to clasp her hand briefly in thanks. It hadn’t escaped your notice that she had been about to leap to your defence, perhaps quite literally. You immersed yourself into the conversation before excusing yourself after what you considered an appropriate amount of time to seek out Lorenzo, steadfast in ignoring the knowing looks the woman sent in your direction.

You reached his circle, placing a hand on his arm giving a nod and smile as the men bowed. “Excuse my Husband gentlemen but it has been a rather long night.”

The aforementioned husband quirked a brow in your direction before bidding farewell, with promises of letters and follow up meetings. You shudder lightly as he places one hand in the small of your back to guide you from the room, stopping here and there to say your goodbyes. 

Light discussion was made as you walked through the palagio, to the entrance, and as the sounds from the gathering grew quite, you pause. “Lorenzo, thank you for tonight.”

He chuckles “what type of husband would I be if I did not defend my lady love?” He comes close, following you as you back into a wall, one hand coming up to test beside your head the other caressing your cheek, giving the appeared of caging you in. Leaning into the hand, you out tongue darts out to wet your lips.

His eyes follow that small movement, before grasping your chin, he tilts his head forwards, lips grazing your ear, “I also noticed your reaction to my defence.”

You shrug in an attempt at nonchalance that fooled neither of you. He chuckles once more, hand sliding to grasp your waist, tugging you impossibly closer as he crashes his lips to yours.

You sigh into him, reaching up to tangle your hands in this curls. One thought crosses your mind as his tongue desperately demands entrance -

_ I really am lucky. _


End file.
